Campfire Tales
by Phish Tacko
Summary: The Fellowship enjoys a few scary stories over dinner around the campfire.
1. Slender

**Summary: Drabbles of the fellowship involving dinners around the campfire. Supposed to read kind of like a creepypasta. Takes place a couple weeks after they leave Rivendell.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR or any creepypastas you might recognize.**

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It had been a long day for the Fellowship. They had walked from dawn to dusk through particularly difficult terrain and were grateful to have made it safely across. Not long after they had set up camp, a fire had been started and Samwise had pieced together a supper for everyone.

"Let's tell scary stories!" Merry suggested as they ate.

"That sounds fun. Let's do that!" Pippin agreed with a grin.

"Are you sure that's wise, Master Meriadoc?" Gandalf raised an eyebrow. "We don't want anyone to have nightmares, now do we?"

"It's all good fun. They're not even that scary." Pippin's grin temporarily dropped. "Does anybody know any good ones?"

"Legolas probably does." Aragorn spoke up. "Legolas?"

"What?" The elf looked up from his supper.

"I'm betting you know a few good tales. Care to share a few?"

"I don't know that many." A small smile spread across his face. "The few that I do know, I do not think that I could tell properly."

"Don't be makin' any excuses, elf." Gimli said gruffly from across the circle.

"I make no excuses." Legolas put his bowl down. "The tales I know were told to me when I was just a mere elfling and most of the details have passed from my memory."

"Try to remember as much as you can." Aragorn stoked the fire. "Go on."

"I suppose I can try." Legolas scooted closer to the fire and got comfortable. "Which one should I tell?"

"How about the Thin Man?"

"Hm. Good suggestion, Estel." The elf leaned forward and shadows danced eerily over his face. "Now, before I start, is anyone here prone to bad dreams? This may frighten some of you."

"No, we're fine." Frodo said quietly.

"Make with the story!" Pippin clapped his hands together.

"All right, settle down." Legolas held his hands up and waited for everyone to quiet down.

Once there was no sound but the crackling of the fire and the chirping of nearby crickets, he spoke.

"The darkness of Mirkwood is home to many things. Some are harmless. Some are malevolent. Some are of ambiguous intent. However, the tale you are about to hear is of one of the more sinister things one can come across in the dark.

"The topic of the Thin Man's origin has been debated hotly. Nobody knows for sure where he came from, nor how long he has been around. Some say that he is a cursed spirit, doomed to wander the land for all eternity. Others say that he is a demon, as ancient as the Balrog. And some say that he is an agent of Sauron. A spy, if you will.

"Most who see the Thin Man do not live to tell the tale. Those who do are haunted for the rest of their lives." Legolas paused. "Or they die soon after they see him."

"He's good. I have chills." Pippin whispered to Merry.

"Everyone has said different things about the Thin Man." Legolas continued. "But each testimony has one thing in common: all have said that he is very tall and slender, with unnaturally long limbs and extremities. He wears black robes and is normally spotted in dark, wooded areas like Mirkwood. He is seldom seen in broad daylight or in open spaces.

"Those who have seen him say that you can tell when he is near. A chill will pierce the air, and it will seem as though all the warmth in your body has been stolen away. And then, before you can run, he will appear." Legolas paused once more for effect and glanced around at the other members of the Fellowship.

"Then what happens?" Frodo asked, wide-eyed.

"Some have said that the Thin Man takes his victims to another dimension and harvests their souls from their bodies. Others say that he eats them on the spot. Either way, those unfortunate enough to encounter him are never seen again."

"How does he catch them?" Merry asked.

"He will appear nearby. If the victim tries to run, he will continue to appear, closer and closer each time, and more frequently. Finally, when he's close enough, he will reach out and grab his victims. His limbs will extend to be able to reach them, and some have said that tentacles will emerge from behind him to ensure that there is no escape."

"Where's he most often seen?" Sam asked.

"He is mostly seen in Mirkwood. But really, he could be anywhere." Legolas lowered his voice. "Perhaps he is here with us right now."

A wolf howled in the distance, startling the hobbits.

"You won't suspect a thing. Valar, no. You won't know what's coming to you..." Legolas stood and walked silently until he was standing behind Aragorn. "UNTIL HE GETS YOU!" He grabbed the ranger around the shoulders, startling him.

"ACK!" Aragorn let out a yell and fell backwards onto the elf. "You son of a…!" He turned, got him into a headlock, and ground out several words in Elvish. Frodo identified them as curse words.

"Get off me." Legolas chuckled and the ranger loosened his grip.

"Don't ever do that to me again. My heart nearly stopped."

"I'm sorry. I couldn't resist." The elf didn't look the least bit sorry.

"If you do that again, I might have to hurt you."

"You won't."

They began to playfully swat at each other.

"Calm down, you two." Gandalf pulled the two friends apart. "You're acting like children."

"He started it."

"You wanted to hear the story." Legolas sat down and picked up his bowl. "I'm just doing what everybody wanted." He began to eat.

"That was scary." Pippin commented. "I'm not gonna sleep tonight."

"Then why did you suggest telling horror stories?" Frodo asked.

"It sounded like a good idea at the time."

"Pippin…"

"Yeah?"

"You're an idiot."

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**Creepypastas are fun.**

**Slenderman in Sindarin is translated as "Fim Abonnen", if you're badly translating it like I am. Fun fact!**


	2. Goat Sucker

**Summary: Moar creepy!**

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The next night went similarly. They sat down to dinner and once again, Merry and Pippin suggested telling scary stories. This time, however, it was Samwise that volunteered.

"If you've ever been to the Shire, you'll know that even we have our share of urban legends and scary things. This is one that my old Gaffer was fond of tellin'. It's also one of my personal favorites." Sam stood up and started to pace around the fire.

"Years ago, back before any of us hobbits could enjoy a half pint of ale, there were rumors goin' around about somethin' gettin' into the crops and killin' the livestock. Nobody knew what it was, and there wasn't anybody willin' to stay out at night to try and catch whatever this thing was. Nobody wanted to die in such a way.

"This went on for a few weeks, and these incidents eventually spread from Hobbiton to Bywater. After another couple months, reports started comin' in from Tuckborough, and eventually even as far as Bree."

"I think I remember that." Frodo said softly. "I used to wake up hearing these awful screaming noises in the middle of the night. I didn't know what it was, but it used to scare me terribly."

"I think most of us felt the same, Mr Frodo." A small smile flitted across Sam's face for a split second before he continued with his tale. "But anyways, all the farmers were gettin' so fed up with losin' all their livestock that they organized a meetin' to discuss what to do about these attacks. They ended up decidin' to set up traps to catch this thing, and a farmhand was to watch to see if anything caught.

"After a few days, they caught somethin'. At first, they thought it was some kind of wolf, but after takin' a more thorough look at it, they noticed that it had some qualities that wolves don't have. It looked… Well, it had the teeth of a wolf, and the torso of one, but its legs were more like those of a cat. Its claws were razor sharp and maybe about half the size of my thumb. And its head… Oh goodness, my old Gaffer had a few things to say about its head. It was this big bulbous thing with its eyes bulgin' out, and its mouth was huge. That thing could have taken someone's hand off with that mouth. It had blood drippin' out of it and gettin' all matted in its fur. It was a sight to see, for sure.

"It was still alive when they caught it, but it died a few hours later. At least, that's what my old Gaffer said. I'm not sayin' that any of this is true, but there's some pretty convincin' evidence. There's a few sketches left of it, but a good few of 'em were destroyed when my uncle's house burned down a few years back." The hobbit sat down and leaned closer to the fire. "To this day, there's not been another problem, 'cept for the usual wolves, and coyotes, and the like… But you can never be sure if there's another monster, just lurkin' in the dark. Waitin'… Watchin'." He sat back and heaved a sigh.

"What do they call this creature?" Legolas asked.

"Lots of different things. Goat Sucker… Chupacabra… Some people say it's a demon, but other people say it's just a deformed animal. I couldn't say exactly." Sam took a bite of his supper. "It ain't somethin' you see every day, I can tell you that much."

There was a rustling noise in a bush behind Boromir, and a gasp from Pippin.

"What was that?"

Aragorn got up to investigate. All he found were two squirrels.

"Just a couple of squirrels. Nothing to panic about." He sat back down and resumed eating his supper.

"I don't think we have anything to worry about." Sam spoke up. "Like I said, it's dead. Besides, it's only been seen near the Shire. Far as I know, Bree is the farthest it went. So don't be scared, Mr Pippin. You've nothin' to worry about."

"I hope not." Pippin shuddered. "Because that was scary."

"That's the point, Pip." Merry grinned. "But don't worry. They don't eat hobbits. Just goats and chickens. Hobbit blood tastes too much like ale for them."

"That's good to know."

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**I'm aware that Chupacabra is Spanish and that hobbits don't speak Spanish. But I couldn't think of an equivalent.**


End file.
